Darkness
by Anime-Addict-no-1
Summary: After being burnt, Mary wanders around the gallery. What does she think off as everyone around her goes on with their life and can't feel her presence? Terrible summary. WARNING! Pretty angsty...


**A/N: I have no idea what made me write this but… write it I did. Here you go. (I am technically still grounded, but I'm posting random stuff...  
****-_-")****  
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**I do not own Ib.**

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Jealousy, that's what a yellow rose represents, what _I_ represent. But also… friendship, a gentle, soothing word, but… also very tempting. Do you want a friend? Of course. Did I want a friend? In this hellish place? You bet.

Sometimes I wonder though… Is there always light at the end of the tunnel? Can there always be a way out? There is an option, but I can't find the answer. I would have to make one myself.

_She_ was my friend. _He_ was my source of jealousy. But why? Why did _they_ get to leave? Why did she like _him_ more than she liked _me_? _I_ was nice to her. _I_ took away that awful image and replaced it with bunnies. Bunnies! No doubt it must have helped her keep her sanity in this place. Who would want to see the truth? I most certainly didn't! The truth hurts, lies are so much better! I never told them who I really was and they were happy with the lie they told themselves, that I was a 'visitor'. But once they found out the truth, they hated me. They didn't like me anymore. They got scared and _left me out_.

That's what made me mad. That _he_ found out the truth. He _stuck his nose_ where it _didn't belong_. It isn't my fault that I'm a painting, the last one father created. He may have loved us but look where we are! What used to be our heaven has turned to hell. We got desperate. Desperate to leave. Desperate to live, to die, to see the light we know we never will.

They weren't the first. In fact, many people had come before them, but they all died. Too scared, too weak, but _she_ was different. _She_ was strong. _She_ solved the puzzles and lived through it all. Of course, _he_ helped her. He made up for her lack of strength and height. They were always together, _and I hated it_. She was _my_ friend, _not_ his.

That's why I asked a favor. I asked that painting to separate them and leave me with Ib. It didn't take much convincing. They could have him, and I could keep Ib. It was the perfect plan! Ib and I could leave and _he_ could stay here. And it would have worked too if he hadn't found that passage. Oh well. In, turn he helped us progress anyway. I just wish he got stuck in that doll room.

It doesn't matter now. They won, I lost. I can't even try to leave now, now that my painting's burnt. I can feel the others' happiness. '_She's gone! She's gone!'_ I hear them rejoice. They don't see me as I wander the halls of the gallery, glaring at each and every one of them, yelling, screaming, at them to be quiet, to shut up.

But they can't hear me. No one ever will again.

"It's not like anyone cared in the first place." I heard someone say. It's her again, my conscience. I closed my eyes and saw her in my mind. In a pitch black room that stretched on endlessly, she was there, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She spoke again.

"Nobody cares."

"You're useless."

"Why won't you die already?"

The more she spoke, she multiplied in my mind. Soon they surrounded me, screaming at me and looming over me like I was an ant. No matter how much I ran away, their voices echoed in my head.

"No one cares."

"Useless girl."

"Leave already."

I continued running. '_I can't leave here anymore!'_ I screamed at them. They continued yelling back at me, my plead falling on deaf ears.

"Ib doesn't love you anymore."

"You tried to kill them."

"It's just another sin."

I stopped. Is that why no one can leave? Because we've sinned, tried to kill everyone who's come?

Is that the truth?

I laughed, the sound echoing off nothing. When I stopped I continued to look up at the never ending blackness. Ib once told me about how the sky was a bright blue color. She looked so happy when she said that, like she couldn't wait to leave. I don't blame her. Who would want to stay here? At least she's back, back where she belongs.

/_Drip_/

Huh? I lifted a hand to my eyes. Water was falling from my face, like a waterfall. After a minute I finally understood what was happening. _I was crying_.

No matter how many times I tried to wipe them away, more just replaced them. I let them fall. Sobs racked my body and I fell to my knees, continuing to cry.

Why? Why am I always alone? Why can't anyone understand?

Why can't I have a friend?

When I opened my eyes, my _real_ eyes, I found I was still crying, the floor beneath me was wet with my tears. I didn't stop them either. Rather, I couldn't.

As I continued to cry, one line kept repeating itself to me.

'_It's just another sin.'_

How many have we killed?

'_It's just another sin.'_

How many have died here?

I looked around me. These paintings that are technically my family-beautiful, yet deadly. Just like a rose, that which symbolizes the life of a visitor. Once you lose all your petals, you're dead. You're given chances to restore your rose though, that's why it's a game to us. If you win, if you lose-it doesn't matter. Someone else will just come take your place.

'_It's just another sin.'_

How many more will be killed before we realize that we can never leave?

I continued to walk, not knowing where my legs where taking me. All the phrases, all the thoughts, rewound themselves in my head, playing over and over again. When I stopped I realized where I was and I felt a new wave of despair wash over me.

I was in my room.

This is where it ended for me. This is where I lost, where I became truly trapped. This is where I 'died'. Images of that event flooded my mind, nothing could hold them back.

I felt as if I was reliving the ordeal. There was me, walking through my storybook, the very place I drew from my loneliness. I smiled to myself as I opened the door to _that_ house, the one with the toy box, and pushed Ib and Garry down it. Laughing, I went the other route into the toy box, the one that wouldn't cause me to lose my petals. But by the time I got there, they had already picked up the key and left. At first I thought just left to open the last house, but I was wrong. The vines that blocked the path to _this_ room were gone. I panicked. If someone found them interesting enough to burn away, they would be interested enough to enter. When I walked in, I saw I was right. _They_ were there. From there, I let my rage take over.

I screamed at them to leave and lunged at them, palette knife in hand. They turned and ran to the back of the room, towards my broken frame. Now do I realize, I was leading them to my death. He threw Ib the lighter and held me back himself. She looked at me and, I guess it was my imagination, but she looked sad. Almost like she was trying to say sorry but couldn't. Then, she turned around and burned my painting. Just like my flammable canvas, I went up in flames and ashes, my spirit and palette knife the only things remaining.

I jerked back to reality, new tears flowing down the same path as the ones before. Looking around, I saw that the room was the same as it was that day. The mannequin heads, books, and my childish drawings cluttered near the back of the room. Even my palette knife was still on the ground, collecting dust at the spot where it fell from my burning hand.

I picked up a doll from the floor. These dolls were my friends, we used to draw together. Once I died, the dolls that I played with went limp while the others rejoiced about my death. Those who cared couldn't care anymore and those who never cared rejoiced with the others. Goes to show, I never was really loved, because I only played with one doll. It was the first doll father made, so it was special. It was also special to me.

Hugging the doll, I sat down in the corner and slowly drifted off to sleep. The words 'another sin' echoing in my mind, the last words I heard before entering a dark, dreamless sleep.

"Good night." I muttered as I slowly faded away.

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**A/N: … well… That was unexpectedly angsty… Ummmmm… Yeah. I started this right after my mom grounded me for about a month (another week left to endure). After a while I just added to it when I felt depressed and this is the product of that. So yeah.**

**Please review!~ **


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